One Christmas Night
by the lurker
Summary: Matt disappears on Christmas Eve, leaving his friends searching for what happened.
1. Chapter One

GUNSMOKE "One Christmas Night"  
  
The falling snow landed seamlessly as it blanketed the boardwalks of Front Street. Stealthy in its silence, it reminded him of a thief stealing away in the night. But unlike a criminal, the snow was soft and glistening in the moonlight; far more beautiful than any mischief made by man. He always enjoyed the first snowfall of the season. It left the town enclosed in the long arms of winter, bathed in the reflective glow of lamplight, and crisp in the night air. There was a stillness about the earth that was comforting to him. It was a time of calm peace, of warm hearths, gathered friends, and affections voiced. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his expressive mouth as he checked the locked doors of the general store. Once he finished his rounds, he would join his friends at the Long Branch, and lift a glass in thanks for another year together, and the many more to come. It was a tradition long treasured, and a party that Marshal Matt Dillon looked forward to attending every Christmas Eve.  
  
The downward blow of the gun handle on his skull ended any more thoughts of the party, the Long Branch, his friends, or Dodge City.  
  
***********  
  
Kitty's cheeks were colored red from the warmth of the room, and the contents of her glass.  
  
"Come on Festus," she cajoled, "you haven't favored us with a tune tonight."  
  
The normally ragged looking deputy seemed to almost shine in his spruced holiday apparel, and clean-shaven face. He blushed slightly with the embarrassment of her attention.  
  
"Aw, now, Miss Kitty," He drawled, "I don't reckon there's a tune I knowed that'd sound good enough in my voice to sang here tonight."  
  
Kitty Russell's shock of red hair shook emphatically, "Nonsense, Festus. Now you just sit down with that guitar there, and sing something."  
  
Festus took the guitar Clem Richards was holding, sat down on a chair, and then looked at the hushed crowd in the Long Branch.  
  
"This here's one of Grandpa Hawg Haggen's favorites..."  
  
Doc threw back a belt of whiskey, muttering, "Saints preserve us...."  
  
Kitty playfully swatted the old doctor's shoulder and he winked at her. Undaunted by the jibe, Festus began to gently pull the strings of the guitar, striking the notes of each chord in accompaniment to his sweet baritone. As the tune of O Holy Night floated through the saloon, all extraneous sounds ceased. By the time he hit the last note of the final chord, and his voice softly faded to an echo only in the minds of the listeners, the Long Branch was completely still. Sam, Burke, and Newly stood transfixed with all the others by the depth of emotions the deputy could evoke when he sang. Tears streaked down Kitty's face, and she struggled to hold back more. Even the curmudgeonly Dr. Adams had taken a hold of Kitty's hand, and was clutching it dearly to his chest.  
  
Festus looked up into Kitty's blue eyes, and the raw emotion he saw in them tugged at his own sentiment. Standing, he set the guitar down, pulled his hat off his head, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek.  
  
"I didn't mean ta make ya cry none, Miss Kitty."  
  
"I'm not crying Festus."  
  
The deputy frowned slightly, "Well it sure done looks like ya are.I wouldn't never do nothin' to make you sad...."  
  
"You didn't, Festus. You have one of the sweetest voices this side of the Mississippi; it just makes me emotional is all." Kitty nodded toward Sam, "Drinks around the house!"  
  
As the cheers went up, the celebration geared into more conversation and piano playing. Festus sat down next to Doc, and Kitty took the chair on the other side of the old physician. She looked toward the entryway expectantly.  
  
Doc brushed her arm, "You know how he has to check every door on Front Street... even on Christmas Eve. He'll be along in a minute."  
  
She looked back at Adams, "Yeah, I know you're right." She looked at their glasses, "Hey, we're out of whiskey. I'll be right back."  
  
The two men watched her glide out of the room toward the back office. Once she was out of earshot, Festus leaned in toward Adams.  
  
"Matthew has been gone a right long time."  
  
The doctor looked at him incredulously, "What? You too? Matt's been a US Marshal for twenty years, he hardly needs the likes of you to baby-sit him!"  
  
Festus snarled back at him, "I wasn't suggestin' that Matthew done needs my help to make rounds, nor none other thang, no sir, but after ten years of law workin' my own self, I done know a thing or three 'bout it." He squinted his eye at Doc, "And it don't take this long to make rounds on Front Street."  
  
Festus stood.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?"  
  
"I'm a-goin' to make sure nothin' happened out there, that's whar..."  
  
Kitty reappeared with a bottle of whiskey, and Doc held out his glass to her.  
  
"Save me from the idiocy that prevails at this table."  
  
Festus stared at him, not understanding exactly what he said, but certainly that it was about him, and that it wasn't a compliment. He glared at Adams for a moment, then turned to Kitty as he put on his coat and hat.  
  
"I'll be back, Miss Kitty... I'm jes' goin' to see what's a-keepin' Matthew."  
  
Kitty nodded, the thanks in her eyes plain, "I'll have a shot ready for both of you when you get back to take off the chill."  
  
Festus tipped his hat, "That'd be right nice, Miss Kitty. Right nice...."  
  
The deputy of Dodge walked out of the Long Branch and into a snow covered portrait of Front Street. The wind had begun to rise, and with it, the frigid air of the north. Festus tried to burrow deeper into his coat, but knew it wasn't going to help. He looked up and down the street, but saw no sign of Dillon. Resigning himself to his task, Festus moved up the street and systematically began looking for the marshal. The quicker he found him, the sooner he could sit back down in the warmth of the saloon, and enjoy a shot of the finest whiskey in Kansas.  
  
Matthew had to be somewhere: after all, people didn't simply disappear in Dodge, especially on Christmas Eve. 


	2. Chapter Two

Matt groaned in the cold darkness, his head pounding mercilessly. He rolled over slowly, trying to assess his situation. He knew he was on a wooden floor, but it was so dark in the room that he couldn't see anything. Slowly Matt pulled himself to a sitting position, leaning against a wall. He touched his hand to his head, and it was wet. Blood. In the dark he pulled a bandana from the pocket of his pants, and held it to the wound, grimacing in pain. After a minute or so, he leaned his head against the wall. It hurt so badly, he could barely think. He knew he needed to find a way out of wherever he was, but he couldn't muster movement.  
  
His eyes closed, and Matt Dillon passed out.  
  
***********  
  
Festus walked up and down Front Street several times, but there was no sign of the marshal. The snow was coming down heavier and faster, quietly covering the ground, and any tracks the deputy might have followed. Pursing his lips in thought, he started toward the marshal's office; perhaps Matthew had simply lost track of the time while catching up with paperwork. Pulling his hat down lower against the cold, Festus quickly walked to the office. As he approached, he saw a piece of paper tacked to the wooden door; Matt must have run some darned errand after all, and left a note. It sort of annoyed Festus that the marshal hadn't simply saved everyone a heap of worry by walking over to the Long Branch and telling them, but at least the mystery of where he had gone off to would be solved shortly. He tore the note from the nail holding it in place, and quickly worked his way through the snow over to the saloon.  
  
The party was in full swing, but the deputy noticed the disappointment on Kitty's face when he entered alone. He walked over to Doc and handed him the note.  
  
"Matthew done left us a note, although what kinda errand was so important to be runnin' on Christmas Eve, I just don't--"  
  
Festus stopped his rambling when he saw the look on Doc's face as he read the note. The old physician had turned a pale shade of white. Festus swallowed hard, and his voice was filled with anxiety.  
  
"Doc? What is it? You look like you just lost your prize heiffer to a butcher."  
  
Adams looked up at his friends, worry shining in his steely blue eyes. "Matt's been taken--"  
  
"--Taken? What do you mean, taken?"  
  
"Taken hostage, Kitty. Note says we either pay ten thousand by midnight tomorrow, or he's dead."  
  
The Long Branch came to an abrupt stop. There was no more noise, no celebratory air. Marshal Matt Dillon was in the hands of the unknown, and therefore, so were the citizens of Dodge.  
  
Festus was among the first to recover from the news, "Does it say how the varmints 'spect to get the money and how we get Matthew back?"  
  
"Says they'll send someone to tell us tomorrow night."  
  
The fear in Kitty's voice was evident, "Ten thousand dollars. Where are we going to get that kind of money?"  
  
Festus placed a gentle hand on Kitty's shoulder, "Don't you worry none, Miss Kitty, we'll find Matthew afore then, and them kidnappers'll be lookin' down the wrong end of my shotgun barrel." He turned toward O'Brien, "Newly, you and Burke organize a search party. I want every inch and corner in Dodge looked over. Don't leave nothin' to chance. Matthew's life may be dependin' on us."  
  
The men in the Long Branch quickly moved out in search of the marshal. Doc moved to Kitty, and guided her to a chair. He stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing away the tension.  
  
His voice was soothing, "They'll find him. Festus is one of the best trackers this side of the Mississippi, and you know how he feels about Matt. He'll find him."  
  
With false bravada, she patted one of his hands, "I know." 


	3. Chapter Three

Matt awoke with a start. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. He groaned and reached for his throbbing head. He wasn't sure, but it felt like it hurt worse than before. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, knowing that he needed to move. Painfully, he stood, leaning heavily on the wall for support. He closed his eyes against the nausea and dizziness that overwhelmed him. He couldn't really remember much about how he had arrived wherever he was, but getting out was his priority.  
  
He reached down to his holster, but as he suspected, there was no gun there. His badge, hat and coat were also conspicuous in their absence. He moved carefully around the room, using the wall as his guide in the dark. After moving around the four corners of the room, Matt realized he was in a cellar. There were no doors or windows; but there had to be a trap door in the ceiling, and a ladder of some kind. He reached overhead with his arms, but couldn't touch anything. He needed something to stand on.  
  
Kneeling down, he moved throughout the floor space, using his hands to look for a box, or anything that would make him tall enough to reach the ceiling. There was one small wooden crate. He stood on top of it, and could touch the wood above. After moving the box around, he found the door, but he had no way to open it. A heavy wave of nausea hit him, and Matt leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor. He shivered. It was getting colder in the cellar, and he knew he wouldn't last long if he stayed there. But the pull of sleep proved too strong.  
  
***********  
  
It was well into the night when Festus sent the men of the search parties home. They hadn't found a thing. Even after he insisted that Newly catch a few hours of sleep, Festus continued looking around for any clue to Matthew's disappearance; but deep down, he knew he would find none. The snow had continued to fall throughout the night, covering any hint he might have followed. Some time before daybreak, Festus was exhausted, and chilled to the bone. Dejectedly, he turned for the Long Branch, knowing that Kitty would still be up, and Sam would have fresh coffee on the stove. Festus walked into the saloon to find Sam sitting at a table with Kitty and Doc, although the latter was sound asleep in his chair. Kitty looked up expectantly, but knew from the look on the deputy's face that there was no news. Festus pulled his hat off in one hand, his eyes shining with disappointment and guilt.  
  
"I'm sorry Miss Kitty. We done looked ev'rywhere, but there weren't nothin' to find."  
  
"Sit down Festus, you look beat."  
  
"Yes ma'am."  
  
She turned to her bartender, "Sam, do we have any more coffee?"  
  
"Sure do."  
  
They sat in silence while Sam fetched the pot and poured a steaming cup of coffee for Festus.  
  
"Much obliged, Sam."  
  
The tall man nodded and went back behind the bar, returning the coffee pot. He walked back to the table.  
  
"I'm going to call it a night, Miss Kitty, if you don't mind."  
  
"Get some sleep. And Sam.... thank you."  
  
He nodded, put his coat on and left the Long Branch. Festus stared into his coffee cup, as if the dark liquid would provide an answer to the mystery that plagued his mind. Kitty reached an arm over and placed a gentle hand on his forearm.  
  
"You did what you could, Festus. You can start anew after a few hours of rest."  
  
He nodded, but couldn't make eye contact with her. Some part of him felt responsible. It was his job to bring Matthew back, and he had failed miserably. Kitty rubbed his arm gently, dipping her head to catch his eye.  
  
"I have faith in you, Festus. You'll find Matt. I know you will."  
  
He could hear the quiet desperation in her voice, and his soft hazel eyes flicked up to meet her blue ones.  
  
"I swear I'll do everything I can, Miss Kitty."  
  
She squeezed his arm before letting go, "I know you will, Festus."  
  
He finished his coffee and looked at Adams.  
  
"I'd better wake the ol' scudder up and git him off to bed."  
  
Kitty brushed a hand across the physician's cheek, "Poor old Doc....he was too tired to stay awake, but didn't want to go home." She shook the sleeping man's shoulder gently, "Doc? Come on....Festus is going to take you home."  
  
His voice was laden with sleep, "Hmmm?" He saw the deputy and sat up straight, "Did you find Matt?"  
  
"'Fraid not." "Why the hell didn't you?"  
  
Kitty's voice held a tinge of warning in it, "Doc...."  
  
"Dag-blane it. Festus, you're Matt's deputy, it's your responsibility to--"  
  
Festus stood up, his face flushing with anger, "--Don't you go 'splainin' my duty to me. I knowed good and well what I done needin' to be doin'..... Now come on, you old goat. Let's get you home to bed before you get any meaner than ya already are."  
  
Doc stood, shrugged his coat on, and then kissed Kitty on the cheek.  
  
"If you need anything, you know where to find me."  
  
She nodded, squeezing his hand. Festus followed Doc out of the Long Branch, and for the first time since Matt was taken, Kitty was alone. The tears started before she had a chance to realize they had flooded her eyes. All the fear that had built up through the night traveled down her face, leaving only a trail of tears behind. They couldn't allow anything to happen to Matt. They just couldn't. Kitty knew that losing him was something she would be unable to bear. 


	4. Chapter Four

He had no idea how much time had passed. He continued to float in and out of consciousness, and he still felt nauseous. He heard footsteps above him, and realized it was the noise that had roused him. Muffled voices bantered back and forth, but he couldn't quite hear what was being said. After a few minutes, the trap door above him opened, allowing light to stream in. He slammed his eyes shut against the brightness, his head pounding in protest. After a moment, he forced himself to open his eyes and look up. A man with a graying mustache and black gambler's hat stared down at him.  
  
"Well Marshal, you're still alive. I wasn't sure."  
  
Dillon stared at the familiar man, "Who are you? What do you want?"  
  
The man smiled, "Who am I? Why Marshal, I realize you've put many behind bars, but I'm truly crushed that you don't remember me."  
  
Dillon glared at him, "Well I don't."  
  
"You chased me clear into New Mexico a few years back because I liberated a few dollars from a passing stage."  
  
Matt's brow furrowed as he forced his muddled mind to concentrate on the man's features and voice. Then it hit him.  
  
"Red Stoddard."  
  
"You took three years of my life, Dillon."  
  
"Three? You were sentenced to five."  
  
The man smiled, "Well, I got out a little early."  
  
"You escaped, you mean."  
  
"Our definitions of things never did match up."  
  
"So this is your idea of revenge...."  
  
"Revenge and easy money."  
  
"Money?"  
  
"Ten thousand dollars to be exact."  
  
"I don't have that kind of money, Stoddard..."  
  
"But collectively, Marshal, the good people of Dodge City will find such money, in the interest of saving you."  
  
"Don't be stupid. They're farmers and shop keepers. They don't have money like that."  
  
"You'd better hope they do, Dillon, or you're going to wind up very dead."  
  
"You're not going to let me live, Stoddard, ten thousand dollars or not."  
  
The man smiled again, "True. I just wanted to be sure you knew who it was who took you down." He tossed some stale bread down into the cellar, and lowered a canteen of water on a piece of twine. "Here's a last meal for you, Marshal. If you wait a few minutes, you can toast it."  
  
Stoddard pulled the trap door up, laughing. As the door closed, Matt noted that the wood was old, and partially rotted. An idea began to form, but as he smelled the gasoline and shortly following, the smoke from above, he realized he didn't have a lot of time.  
  
***********  
  
Stoddard and his gang fled from the burning shack, heading toward the outskirts of Dodge, and their appointment with ten thousand dollars. He smiled. Perhaps they'd take a quick turn of looting the town before leaving; after all, Dodge City no longer had a marshal to protect it. He took one more look at the homestead engulfed in flames, lighting up the night sky. He thought being burnt alive was a fitting end to Matt Dillon. 


	5. Chapter Five

Matt worked quickly, emptying the gun powder from the bullets in his gun belt into the hole he had made in the old bread. He took more powder and pressed it into the twine that had been tied to the canteen, fashioning a fuse. In the blackness of the cellar, Dillon moved toward the old wooden crate. He stood on it, and then poured water from the canteen on the top part of the bread. He pressed the wet part of the bread into the wooden trap door, and it stuck.  
  
Perspiration dripped from Matt's forehead. It was becoming extremely hot from the fire above, and smoke was quickly filling the cellar. He needed to hurry, or he wasn't going to make it out. Coughing spasms shook him, but he inserted one end of the makeshift fuse into the bread, and pulling a match from his vest pocket, he struck it against the wood of the door. Matt lit the fuse, stepped off the crate, and pulling the old crate with him, went to the furthest corner of the cellar, crouching toward the wall. He waited and a few moments later, the trap door blew off, and Matt Dillon looked up toward the inferno above.  
  
For a brief moment, he wondered if he had made the right move, but in the end, he knew his only chance for survival was to get out, even if that meant going through fire. Matt put the crate under the newly made hole in the ceiling of the cellar. He poured the rest of the water in the canteen all over his clothes, wetting his bandana as thoroughly as he could. He placed the bandana over most of his face, and jumped up, gripping the hot floor of the shack. He hoisted himself up, and into the burning interior.  
  
Matt ran through the fire, trying not to react to the flames as they touched him. Holding his hands over his face, he dove through a window, landing with a thump on the hard snow outside. For a long moment, Dillon lay still, coughing up the smoke that had penetrated his lungs. He knew his right arm and leg were slightly singed from running through the fire, but he was happy to still be alive. The early morning wind kicked up, blowing snow over him, and he shivered bitterly as his wet clothing offered no protection against the freezing temperature. Matt knew he didn't have the luxury of waiting around to be rescued; if he remained unprotected out in the cold, he would surely die.  
  
The sky was still dark with the last of the night, and the land silent with snow laden trees. Somewhere far off, he could hear the sounds of rushing water. His best shot would be to follow it downstream. He pulled himself up, and began walking toward the brook just beyond the clearing of trees. Matt hoped that he wouldn't freeze to death before he came upon a town or settlement.  
  
***********  
  
Festus was up before first light, and standing outside the Marshal's Office, coffee in hand. It had finally stopped snowing, but the morning was brutally cold. He finished his coffee, turned and walked back inside the office. He set the cup down, and picked up a shotgun, bed roll, and saddle bag of supplies. He left the office and trudged through the more than two feet of fresh snow, down to the livery. He softly stroked the mule's nose before saddling her.  
  
"Now I knowed it's gonna be cold, Ruth, but we gotta try and find Matthew. He's done got hisself in a heap o' trouble, and it's up to us'n to git him out."  
  
He pet the animal's nose once more, mounted her and headed for the edge of town. Two feet of snow might have fallen, but somewhere underneath it, there had to be a clue to where the scoundrels took the marshal. And if there was anything to follow, Deputy Festus Haggen would find it.  
  
***********  
  
Doc felt old as he ambled into the Long Branch. How many times over the years had he been afraid for Matt? Or for that matter, Festus. As the years passed, it was harder to take; and he could only imagine how difficult it was for Kitty. He found her sitting at their usual table, nursing a cup of coffee. For her sake, he would put on an air of pleasant confidence.  
  
"Good morning, Kitty."  
  
"Hi Doc."  
  
"How are you holdin' up?"  
  
"Okay, I guess."  
  
He sat down across from her, and patted her hand.  
  
"I know this is hard on you, but Festus isn't going to let anything happen to Matt." He looked around and realized there was no sign of the deputy. "And speaking of Festus, have you seen him this morning?"  
  
"No."  
  
"He probably left early to look for Matt. He's a good tracker, Kitty. If anyone can pick up Matt's trail, it's Festus."  
  
She nodded, and silently sipped her coffee. Doc watched as Sam poured him a cup. He ran his hand over his mustache and down over his mouth and chin. Galen Adams wanted to take away her anxiety; he wanted to be able to reassure her that everything was going to be fine. He wanted to be able to say that Festus would come back shortly with Matt, and that there was no cause for worry. But he couldn't. His own heart was nearly paralyzed with fear. And yet, he knew for his own sake, and especially Kitty's, he couldn't give in to it.  
  
He reached across the table and gently took Kitty's hands into his own. Their eyes locked in a silent moment of shared compassion.  
  
His voice was soft and gentle, "While Festus is out there findin' Matt, I think we should keep ourselves busy with raisin' the ransom money."  
  
Kitty's eyes turned cold, "You believe it's going to come to that, don't you."  
  
It was a statement, not a question. Doc let go of her hands, and looked down at the table. He was failing miserably at comforting her. Finally his eyes glanced back up at her.  
  
"What I believe is that we should be prepared for any eventuality."  
  
Her eyes fought off tears, "They'll kill him anyway, Doc, and we both know it. People who do this sort of thing, they--"  
  
She couldn't finish the thought. Kitty covered her mouth with her hand, in an attempt to stifle her cries. Doc moved to the chair next to hers, and put an arm around her shoulders.  
  
"Here now..... let's have none of that. We'll get him back, Kitty."  
  
Her fear was overtaking her, "You don't know that."  
  
Doc felt her anguish land in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep his own feelings in check. He pulled her into his shoulder, gently pressing her head into the crook of his neck. Kitty buried her face into his soft skin, and he rested his chin on her head. Doc sweetly stroked her hair until he felt her take a deep breath, then he wrapped his arms around her back, holding her tightly against him.  
  
"Now you listen to me. Matt Dillon is not so easily done in, and Festus won't stop until he finds him. The odds are in our favor. Let's not forget how many scrapes these boys have come through."  
  
Her breath was soft and warm against his neck, "And someday, their luck is bound to run out."  
  
Doc pressed her into him, closing his eyes. He didn't want to think about anyone's luck running out. He had to try and remain positive, for both their sakes. 


	6. Chapter Six

Festus had been riding for hours. He was cold, tired, and had found absolutely nothing. He stopped Ruth and dismounted, stretching his back out slightly. The cold was hanging in the air, and he knew it was at least ten degrees colder than it had been in the previous hour. His stomach growled and he realized he hadn't eaten a thing all day. But now was not the time to stop.  
  
He let out a slow breath of air, and climbed back up on Ruth, and started down the trail once again. The snow was thick but the wind was blowing it into drifting banks all around him. He had to hold onto his hat as a particularly strong gust blew through the pass. Snow flew as the gust carried it into different directions. Festus squinted to keep it out of his eyes, and it was then that a glint of sun striking metal caught his attention.  
  
"Whoa, Ruth."  
  
He dismounted and walked over to the shiny object. Bending down, Festus pulled it out of the bank and brushed off the remaining snow and ice. He couldn't read them, but he knew that the words etched in the metal badge said: "US Marshal." There was no question that Dillon had come this way. Festus dug around the snow in the area, and to his dismay, uncovered spots of dried blood. He clutched the badge tightly in his hand.  
  
"You just hang on, Matthew. I'm a comin'...."  
  
***********  
  
Matt's head hurt so badly, he could barely see straight. He had to sit down and rest awhile; it was either that or pass out. He sat under a large tree that was set back away from the rushing river. He leaned against the strong trunk, and pulled his knees up against his chest for warmth. He shivered from the cold, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. Within minutes, Dillon was unconscious, unaware of the approaching storm.  
  
***********  
  
By periodically digging through snow, Festus was able to follow a trail of dried blood that led through a thick wood. But it had been a slow process and took much longer than he had anticipated. Around dusk, he found the clearing where the old shack once stood. When he saw the charred remains, his stomach leapt into his throat, an inexplicable fear overwhelming him. He spurred Ruth into a fast run, not pulling up on the reins until he was ten feet from the scorched pile of wood. Feeling suddenly queasy, Festus dismounted, and slowly walked toward the old shack. Afraid of what he might find, but knowing he had to look, the deputy began searching through the seared remnants.  
  
After about ten minutes, his worst fears proved true: under several burnt timbres of wood, Festus found the charred remains of Matt's coat, hat, and his seared colt. The deputy felt as if he had been kicked hard in the belly. Pulling his hat off his head, Festus dropped to his knees, and gently picked up the remnants of his friend's belongings. Tears stung his eyes, and he wiped his shirtsleeve across his face.  
  
"Aw Matthew....." His voice dropped to a whisper, "I'm so sorry I wasn't here. More sorrier than you could ever knowed." Festus stood, putting his hat back on his head, "I'll get the ones who did this, Matthew. I swar it."  
  
With an air of reverence, Festus wrapped Dillon's hat and coat into his bed roll, mounted Ruth, and spurring her into a run, headed for home just as the snow began to fall. 


	7. Chapter Seven

The air in the Long Branch was tight with anxiety, and stifling in its stillness. Kitty couldn't stop pacing. Doc sat, a cup of untouched coffee in front of him. Sam was standing like a statue behind the bar, and Burke, Louie, Harker, and most of the town's citizens sat at the tables in stony silence. Doc pulled his pocket watch out and glanced at it: 11:35. Less than a half hour left, and there had been no sign of Festus or Matt. He looked at the large sack on the table in front of him. It was about three thousand dollars shy of the required ten, but it was all the cash Dodge City could muster on such short notice.  
  
He looked up at Kitty, "Why don't you sit down for awhile...."  
  
"I can't, Doc." She paced a few more steps then turned back to the old physician, "Where the hell are they, Doc? Festus has been gone since early this morning. What could have happened?"  
  
He shook his head, "I don't know."  
  
"We're running out of time!"  
  
"Kitty, we're just going to have to pay them the money, and hope for the best."  
  
"But we don't even have the amount they demanded. Doc......what if they kill him?"  
  
Doc stood and walked over to her, taking her by the arms, "We can't think like that, Kitty. Close to seven thousand dollars in cash ain't nothin' to sneeze at."  
  
A young man entered the Long Branch, and all eyes darted to the stranger. He quickly surveyed the room, and decided to address Kitty and Doc.  
  
"You the ones in charge?"  
  
Doc glared at the man, "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm here about the money."  
  
"Where's Matt Dillon?"  
  
"You bring the money at midnight, south end of town, and we'll give you Dillon."  
  
"How do we know he's still alive?"  
  
"If'n you don't come up with the cash, he'll be dead for sure." The young man started for the door, and then turned once again to Adams, "Old man, you bring the money, and you come alone. At the first sign of trouble, Dillon's dead. You got it?"  
  
"Yeah, I got it."  
  
The man disappeared through the swinging doors of the Long Branch, and Kitty leaned into Doc Adams. He put his arm around her, and kissed her softly on the side of the head.  
  
"It'll be okay, Kitty."  
  
She turned into him, putting her arms around his neck, holding him for a moment.  
  
"You be careful, you hear me?"  
  
"Shhh....I'll be fine."  
  
Everyone in the saloon was on his feet as Doc Adams put his hat and coat on. Newly stepped forward, holding his rifle. "Burke and I won't be far behind, Doc. We'll keep you covered until the trade is completed."  
  
"Just make sure you two stay out of sight. I get the feeling these fellas'll kill Matt at the first sign of anything other than me and the cash." Burke spoke up, "You can count on us, Doc."  
  
The old man nodded as he picked up the sack with almost seven thousand dollars in it. Doc squeezed Kitty's extended hand, and then walked out of the Long Branch. Newly and Burke shadowed behind, keeping a watchful eye on him, and their rifles close at hand. One thing for sure, if something went awry, Doc wouldn't be caught alone and unarmed.  
  
With the wind chill, and the falling snow, Adams figured the temperature to be well below zero. Doc tried to burrow deeper in his coat as he ambled down Front Street, heading toward the edge of town. The wind whipped snow up into his face, and he had to squint to keep it from stinging his steely blue eyes. He sent up a silent prayer that Matt was okay, but some part of him had doubts about this whole setup. He wished Festus was with him. He was worried about what could have happened to the deputy, and something must have, or he'd have been back long before now.  
  
Doc knew he couldn't dwell on that at the moment; he needed to have his mind on the business at hand. Still, he was worried about Matt and Festus. He saw a lantern ahead, and as he drew closer, Doc realized there were several men and horses. He guessed there were about seven of them: and none looked big enough even in the dark to be Marshal Matt Dillon. A sense of foreboding fixed itself in the pit of his stomach. Of all the possible scenarios that entered his mind, none would end well. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Festus drove his mule as fast as she could go, even though he knew she was close to collapsing. He had long since forgotten how cold he was, along with the snow that was coming down upon him at an unbearable pace. It was close to midnight, and he needed to be in Dodge City. That was all the deputy allowed himself to think on.  
  
***********  
  
Doc stopped about ten feet from the band of men facing him. A particularly tough looking man with a gray mustache and black hat stepped forward.  
  
"You got the cash?"  
  
Doc nodded, "Where's Matt Dillon?"  
  
"You hand over the cash, and then I'll tell you where you can find him."  
  
"No."  
  
Stoddard looked at the plucky older man, "No? You like to take risks, don't you old man?"  
  
"Not particularly. But that doesn't change a thing. You don't get the cash until I see Matt."  
  
Stoddard nodded to a man to his right, "Jake, take the bag."  
  
The sound of a shotgun cocking stopped them.  
  
"If'n you take one step toward ol' Doc, you'll never take another."  
  
Adams looked toward the sound of the voice and felt a wave of relief to see Festus standing there with a shotgun pointed at the band of men; but a second later, Doc realized that Matt wasn't with him, and his heart skipped a beat. Despite the deputy's warning, Jake reached for his gun, and all hell broke loose. Newly and Burke open fire from somewhere behind Doc, and Festus fired as he ran toward Adams, throwing himself at the old physician, covering him with his own body to protect him as they hit the ground.  
  
Within moments, it was over, the younger members of the gang of men throwing their weapons aside. Jake and Red Stoddard were lying dead in the snow, and another two men were wounded. Newly and Burke rounded up the rest of them quickly and began walking them toward the Marshal's Office, and the jail.  
  
Festus winced as he moved off Doc, and Adams realized the deputy had been hit.  
  
"Festus?"  
  
"It ain't nothin' Doc, just a scratch."  
  
"You let me be the judge of that."  
  
Doc started to inspect the open wound, but Festus gripped Adams by the arms, and the old man knew from the look in the deputy's eyes that he didn't want to hear what Festus was about to tell him.  
  
"Doc...... Oh Doc...."  
  
Adams' voice was soft, "You found Matt didn't you?"  
  
Festus nodded, looking down into the snow, "I got there too late, Doc." Tears of regret filled the hazel eyes, but none dared to fall. "They burnt the place to the ground with Matthew inside it. I found his coat, hat, and gun in the ashes, all of 'em charred from fire." He looked back up at Adams, sadness permeating his timbre, "I cain't tell Miss Kitty, Doc. I just cain't."  
  
Doc gently cuffed Festus behind the back of the head, pulling him close, "We'll both go to her." He studied the deputy for a moment, noting the despair in his deep eyes. The old man soothingly stroked the back of the head under his hand, "This wasn't your fault, Festus. You did everything you could. Matt just finally ran out of luck. Now come on, let's get out of the cold, and patch up that crease in your neck."  
  
Without a word, Festus let Doc lead him gently by the arm, pulling his mule behind them, the sack full of cash dangling from Ruth's saddle horn. The deputy looked ahead, watching as the snow gently covered Dodge City with its blanket of frost. He would never see it the same way again. They had lost a shining star, one that couldn't be replaced, and Deputy Festus Haggen wasn't sure he could continue as the law in Dodge. Every day would be a constant reminder of the friend who would never return.  
  
Front Street was lined with townspeople as Festus and Adams slowly made their way through the snow toward Doc's office, the news of the marshal's demise having spread quickly. Newly took Ruth from Festus and led her to the livery. As they passed the Long Branch, Kitty ran out: but she knew from the hollow look in Festus' hazel eyes that Matt wouldn't be coming back. She caught Doc's gaze on her as she bit her lip to keep the tears from falling in front of the entire town.  
  
"Kitty, can you come with me? I need your help...."  
  
She took Festus' other arm, and together the three of them climbed the stairwell outside Doc's office. Once inside, Festus sat down in a chair, chilled to the bone, and barely aware of the wound on his neck. Without a word, Doc lit the fire in the stove, and wrapped Festus in a large blanket to warm him. Kitty prepared a basin of alcohol and some bandages for Doc, and then sat next to Festus, taking his hand in hers. Even though he didn't look at her, the deputy spoke softly.  
  
"Miss Kitty, there's something I gotta tell ya that I just plumb don't know how to say."  
  
Kitty's eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed the wide hand in hers.  
  
"You found Matt." She fought to keep her voice even, "I just want to see the body, to say good-bye."  
  
Doc stood on her side, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, "I'm afraid there isn't anything left, honey."  
  
"Oh my god..... what-how-" The tears began to flow down her face, "How did it happen?"  
  
Festus looked up at Doc who nodded, and then finally, the deputy looked at her, "It was a fire, Miss Kitty. All that was left 'twas pieces of Matthew's hat, coat, and gun. Thar wasn't nothing else, 'cept'n....." Festus pulled the badge out of his pocket, "'Cept'n this...." He handed it to Kitty, "I'm sure Matthew would want you to have it, Miss Kitty."  
  
She placed it back in the strong hand she was holding, "No Festus, Matt would want you to have this."  
  
Doc rubbed a soft hand on her back, "Do you need something to help you sleep?"  
  
She shook her head, let go of Festus' hand, and stood up.  
  
"No, Doc, I've got everything I need at the Long Branch." She adjusted the blanket tighter around the deputy, "You still feel like an icicle, Festus, try and get warm." Kitty headed toward the door.  
  
Doc's voice was tinged with concern, "I'll be over in awhile to check in on you, okay?"  
  
She nodded, "Sure....just don't expect me to be sober."  
  
Kitty closed the door behind her softly.  
  
"I'm plumb worried about her, Doc. You should go over there right now, and make sure she's a-doin' okay."  
  
"I will, as soon as I clean this wound on your neck. Now hold still...."  
  
***********  
  
Matt could no longer feel his fingers or toes. He had fallen asleep under the tree, and frostbite was setting in. He knew he needed to try and move on, but it was so dark, and cold. And he was so tired. But there was something he was forgetting. Christmas, that was it. And Kitty. Kitty would be expecting him at the Long Branch. He had to get moving. She'd be worried. Slowly, Matt Dillon stood, wavering on his feet, but he started walking downstream in the snow, barely aware of his surroundings, or situation, in his delirium. He had to get back to Dodge for Kitty.... 


	9. Chapter Nine

Festus was finally warm and asleep in Doc's bedroom. Adams put one more blanket over the deputy, making sure he would continue to be warm enough, then he shrugged on his coat and walked quickly over to the Long Branch. It was quiet and locked up for the night, so Doc went around back, pulling out the extra key from his pocket. He let himself in the back door, and quietly took the stairs, stopping outside Kitty's door. He knocked softly, but there was no answer. After a moment of indecision about entering a woman's private quarters without permission, he threw caution to the wind and turned the doorknob.  
  
As he suspected, Kitty was passed out on top of the bed, still fully clothed. He closed the door behind him, and turned on a lamp. Gently he removed her shoes, her dress, and her corset, leaving her in the rest of her undergarments. Carefully Doc put her in bed, covering her with blankets and a comforter. He sat down on the side of the bed and placed his fingers against the large vein in her neck, while looking at the second hand of his watch. Satisfied that she was all right, he pulled the bedclothes up tighter around her, extinguished the lamp, and quietly left the room.  
  
It was freezing outside, still snowing wildly. While he knew he should return quickly to the warmth of his office, he didn't. For the first time since Festus had told him the news of Matt's demise, Doc Adams was alone with his thoughts. He started walking up Front Street, heading in no particular direction. The tears streamed quietly in hot streaks down his face, almost freezing as they moved through the cold temperature surrounding him. When he could stand the cold no more, he headed back to his office.  
  
He checked in on Festus, who was sleeping soundly. The poor deputy had worn himself to the bone looking for Matt, and even though he hadn't complained, Doc knew it would be a few days before he felt better. Doc took his jacket off and hung up his hat, then he settled in a chair for the night.  
  
***********  
  
Matt could barely keep his feet shuffling one in front of the other. The snow had finally stopped falling after daybreak, but there was so much of it, trudging through it was tougher work than the marshal thought he could manage. He was delirious with hunger, cold, and lack of sleep. But he couldn't stop. If he stopped, he would die for sure, and in the back of his mind, he knew Kitty would never forgive him. He kept moving.  
  
***********  
  
Doc watched Kitty over the top of his coffee cup as he took a sip. Several days had passed since they had lost Matt, and she had remained sullen and quiet. It was to be expected, but still, he was worried about her. Festus had recovered nicely, and was back to normal, at least physically. He still harbored tremendous guilt over what had happened to Matt, blaming himself for not finding him sooner. Eventually, Doc knew Festus would come out of it, but Kitty... he wasn't so sure about her. She caught him watching her.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"I'm not going to just whither up and die because Matt's gone."  
  
"I know that." He looked into his coffee, "Doesn't keep me from worryin'...."  
  
Her look softened slightly, "There's no reason for you to. I'm fine, Doc."  
  
He knew she was lying to him, but for the moment, he would let it go. Festus entered and sat down at the table. Sam came around and poured him a steaming cup of coffee.  
  
"Much obliged, Sam. It's still colder than a sow's ear in the middle of February out there." He looked at Doc and Kitty, "Good mornin' Doc, Miss Kitty...."  
  
"What the hell's so good about it?"  
  
"Well now you got yerself up outta the wrong side o' the bed this mornin' didn'tcha..."  
  
Doc growled again, "Can't you just drink your coffee in peace and quiet? You just can't keep that yap of yours shut."  
  
Festus curled a lip up at the old man, "You're just ornerier than a pole cat a caught up in a trap today, that's what you are...."  
  
"Could you two just put a lid on it--" Kitty stopped herself short, letting out a slow breath. "I'm sorry."  
  
"No, now you're right, Miss Kitty. Ol' Doc and I shouldn't be a-carryin' on."  
  
She touched his sleeve, "I know that the two of you are just trying to make things as normal as possible. And I love you both for it, I really do; but the truth is, I don't want things to seem normal, because they aren't. And they never will be again."  
  
She turned and headed for the staircase. Doc and Festus watched Kitty as she ascended the stairs, and entered her room, closing herself off from them and the rest of the world. But it wouldn't work. Her feelings stayed with her no matter where she went; it just seemed worse when she was around Doc and Festus because they were constant reminders for her. She missed Matt so much she thought her heart might burst.  
  
But he would want her to go on, and Kitty Russell knew that for the sake of his memory, she had to at least try.  
  
***********  
  
"Doc! Doc! Come quick! Doc! Festus! Miss Kitty!"  
  
Burke was screaming his head off as he entered the Long Branch.  
  
"What the hell is all the fuss, Burke?"  
  
"It's the Marshal! He's in bad shape, Doc, we need you."  
  
"Marshal? What Marshal?"  
  
"Matt Dillon! It's Dillon!"  
  
Festus and Kitty followed Doc out into the street, and there, supported by Newly, was Matt Dillon. Doc ran as quickly as his feet would carry him toward the marshal.  
  
"Matt, thank god. We thought you were--" Doc was choked up, and swallowed hard as he turned to the deputies, "Festus, Newly, come on, hurry now, let's get him up to my office."  
  
Kitty followed them, tears falling down her face as they went up the stairs, and gently placed the big man on Doc's table. Adams went quickly to work, covering Matt with blankets to warm him. Dillon was barely conscious.  
  
"Kitty, heat some water please, and Festus, I'll need several long strips of torn sheets. Newly, fire up the stove some, it needs to be warmer in here for him."  
  
Doc looked at the frostbitten hands and feet of the marshal, and then examined the head wound. Dillon groaned.  
  
"Easy Matt, it's Doc."  
  
"Doc?"  
  
"Yeah. You're safe, and you're gonna be fine. Just relax."  
  
Doc soaked the torn sheets Festus handed him in the hot water Kitty had poured in a basin, then he placed them on the frostbitten areas of Matt's hands and feet.  
  
"I'm going to need a lot of hot water, Kitty....can you stay for awhile?"  
  
"You bet I can."  
  
"Festus..."  
  
"Here, Matthew."  
  
"The men who did this...."  
  
"We got 'em. Don't you worry none. Newly's got the ones still alive locked up in the jail."  
  
"Red Stoddard..."  
  
Newly spoke up, "He's dead, marshal. Had to kill him."  
  
Matt nodded, and closed his eyes. He opened them again when he felt the soft hand stroking his forehead. Kitty looked down at him, smiling. But he could see how tired she looked, and the redness of her eyes, and he knew what she must have gone through.  
  
His voice was low, "I'm sorry, Kitty."  
  
"Doesn't matter now, Matt. You're safe, and you're here, that's all I care about."  
  
He closed his eyes, confident that he was in good hands. Doc relieved the frostbite by slowly warming Matt's extremities to normal temperature, and then he took a few stitches in the marshal's head, and wrapped it with a bandage. Festus and Newly carried Matt into the second room, and placed him in the bed. Doc covered him with a lot of blankets, and he was sleeping peacefully, warm for the first time in days.  
  
Newly stood just inside the door, in case anyone needed anything. Kitty sat in the chair by the bedside, watching the slow rise and fall of Matt's chest as he slept. Doc stood behind her, his hands resting protectively on her shoulders. Festus was leaning against the back wall, his arms folded across his chest, silently keeping watch on the people most dear to him in all the world; all of them safe and together once again.  
  
Christmas had come and gone, and for the first time in several years, they had not celebrated with drinks in hand, voicing their wishes for a new year, and their fondness for each other. But instead, each of them had felt the strength of their bond as friends, and while it wasn't celebrated properly, this Christmas would be remembered as a special gift. It was the year they had been given a second chance to love each other even more.  
  
The end 


End file.
